The Types of Fun That Make a Visit Unforgettable
Somewhere in the vast expanse of the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans.
“You have to admit, if the Kerecmans weren’t here, this is not something our family would be doing.”
A telling line from our recent visitors.
And honestly, probably true. Sleeping outside in the middle of the largest salt pans on Earth, lightning flashing miles away, no walls in sight. This isn’t your average vacation.
But it’s classic Type 2 fun: the kind where there’s a little risk, maybe a little discomfort, but the memories end up outweighing all of it.
The best part of Type 2 fun? Doing it with friends brave enough to embrace a 30+ hour journey just to visit you. Friends who buy a plane ticket without a full itinerary. Who show up open to the unknown. Who say yes to adventure—even when that adventure involves salt flats and sand traps.
Their visit gave us wind in our sails. Not just because they came, but because they came all in.
On the Spectrum of Fun
This past year, I’ve been thinking a lot about fun—not just the obvious kind, but the different types of it.
Type 1 Fun is the easy stuff: beautiful, joyful, effortless in the moment.
Type 2 Fun is the tougher stuff: challenging while it’s happening, but worth it after.
Type 3 Fun …well, maybe don’t repeat that one.
I’ve realized the best trips have a little bit of each (hopefully, sparingly Type 3), because the ones you remember are the ones where something real happened. While I like to think this trip was majority Type 1, we may have delivered the whole range.
How We Ended Up in the Middle of Nowhere
After our brave visitors soaked in three nights of safari lodge luxury in the Okavango Delta, we decided it was time to add a little grit and a whole lot of character.
A visit to the iconic Jack’s Camp in the Makgadikgadi Pans would do just that. The camp itself feels otherworldly, like an oasis of striped canvas and curiosities in the middle of a salt desert. You're never quite sure if it’s real or if you’ve wandered into a dream.
Our first day kicked off fast. Nearly as soon as we arrived, we were whisked back out again, this time into the vast, dusty expanse of the pans on 4x4s. After a 30-second tutorial, the kids jumped into the driver’s seats, kikois wrapped artfully around our heads instead of helmets (a definite Type 3 setup, but... adventure!).
As we drove, we left behind the last traces of anything manmade. We stopped for a break, and our guides offered a challenge: walk in a straight line, blindfolded, toward a marker just 20 yards away. Easy, we all thought, until person after person veered wildly off-course. Kris managed a perfect circle, drawing belly laughs from the whole group.
As the sun started to sink, we bounced further into the nothingness. A bonfire appeared in the distance, drinks in hand, and dinner was served under the stars. It got cold, but Jack’s has a fix for that: hot coals placed under your chair to keep you toasty.
Then came the decision. Head back to camp... or sleep out in the middle of the pans. The obvious Type 2 Fun choice? Sleep out and risk being chased back by a storm in the night. So we did.
And sure enough, we were woken up at midnight, raindrops beginning to fall, the pans quickly turning to slush. We loaded up and bumped slowly through the darkness, the pans turning muddy under the weight of the rain.
A little bit of risk. A whole lot of story. Classic Type 2.
Proof of Magic, Too
Not all of it required effort. Some moments were pure magic.
We spent time with meerkats, quietly observing as we tried to blend in, getting progressively better at becoming part of their world. We watched black-backed jackals feast on a wildebeest, leftovers from a lion hunt the night before. Later, we listened as those same jackals circled a cheetah that had just brought down a massive ostrich, likely planning to chase it off and claim the prize for themselves. Meanwhile, the boys chattered from the rooftop of the cruiser, honing their photography skills on the vast, star-filled sky.
We also reunited with the Zu/’hoasi, giving our guests the chance to participate in the scorpion challenge. A mix of tradition, tension, and fun with just enough edge to make it memorable.
By the time we left, we were tired in the best way: full stomachs, full minds, and new insights into wildlife and culture.
One Last Adventure
Of course, we couldn’t let our youngest visitor leave Botswana without meeting the baby elephants at Elephant Havens, a rehabilitation project just outside Maun.
The obvious plan? Rent a car and drive ourselves down a sandy road with questionable signage. A classic setup for what we like to call “optional hardship.”
Let’s be honest: no real trip to the bush is complete without getting stuck at least once. And that we did. But here’s where Type 2 Fun shines. When you’re in it together. Working as a team to problem-solve, push, laugh, and eventually succeed.
We made it to the elephants, triumphant. To round it all out, on the drive back, we got lost more than once, probably drove too fast (ahem, Kris), and definitely redefined the limits of off-roading in an 8-passenger rental.
Dusty, tired, and completely satisfied, we made it to the airport just in time for a predictably-delayed late-night flight. The kids got home after midnight and were up by 5:30 the next morning: uniforms on, backpacks ready, heading off to school like total champs. Emmy and Will jumped in too, embracing the challenge of a day in an unfamiliar classroom with zero hesitation.
You can book flights, make plans, pack perfectly. But none of that compares to the friends who show up fully: who laugh when things go sideways, who embrace your version of chaos, and who help turn unfamiliar ground into a shared story. No matter the type of fun.
